Small Steps
by Message
Summary: When Wesley's mother shows up with a son he never knew he had things get pretty interesting for our favorite watcher.
1. Big Surprise in a Little Package

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Angel or Buffy characters. They all belong to Joss Whedon.

Shifting slightly in his leather chair, Wesley flipped another page of the thick book on his desk, and sighed. He was getting no where with finding information as to why Spike has returned, much less why he hadn't returned as bodified as he had left this earth.

At least that's how Fred has put it, 'bodified'. It was probably one of Knoxy's words. Knoxy. That was his problem. For two years he had pined after Fred, and it only took one joke from Knox and she was practically falling into his arms.

"Whats wrong, sugar lumps," a voice from his doorway startled him.

Looking up, he let loose another sigh.

"That bad," Lorne asked, taking a seat in front his desk.

"No," Wesley replied, trying to hide his true emotions, "everything is wonderful, splendid, in fact."

"Uh-huh, and when did you start using the word splendid in a non-sarcastic context," the demon prodded.

"I. . .," Wesley began but was relieved when Lorne's cellphone began ringing.

"You'd think Hell could take a break," he said answering the phone. "Yeah, Marty, I told you, candy dimples, I'll take care of the band. I don't know if we can get U2. You know Bono's on vacation this week." Rolling his eyes, Lorne stood and walked towards the office door, "we'll catch up later. Don't go anywhere."

"I highly doubt I will," Wesley replied to no one in particular burying his head in the book again.

"Mr. Wyndam Pryce," sighing and looking up again, Wesley found Lily Macavoy, one the ladies from transcription, at his door. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I was just sent to tell you that those manuscripts you wanted translated are done."

Standing, he met her halfway across the room, taking the manuscripts as she handed them to him, "um, thank you, Mrs. Machovoy."

Grinning she shook her head, "actually, it's miss. I'm not married, sir."

"Oh, I. . .sorry, I didn't know, but now I d. . .Mother," he interrupted himself, looking over his assistant's shoulder.

"Mother," she asked, but looked over his shoulder, "oh, I should get back to work."

With a blush, and a nod to Wesley's mother, Lily was gone.

"Mum," Wesley exclaimed, not believing his eyes as he approached her.

"You've said that, dear," she said, coming forward and giving her only child a hug. 

"I'm sorry, I just don't believe it," he backed away, and looked her up and down, "what are you doing here?"

"No 'hello, it's wonderful to see you'," she asked sarcastically.

"Of course, it's wonderful to see you, but what are you doing here," he asked again, then thought better and continued, "I mean, you didn't tell me you were coming, this is a surprise."

"A nice one, I hope," she smiled, steering him towards the couch in the corner of his office, "I've been wanting to come and see this new office you've been telling me about. It's quite lovely, dear, as well as your assistants."

Blushing, he took a seat next to her, "yes, well, I suppose evil does have some upsides. How have you been? How's father?"

"We're both well. It's been quite awhile since I've seen you though. How are things here? How's that Winifred girl you were talking so much about last year?"

Busying himself with a paper he'd left near the couch, Wesley felt embarrassment coming over him, "she's alright. Running the science department. We're friends."

"Just friends," she asked, seeming somewhat disappointed, but not so much that it concerned him.

"Mum," he whined, standing and walking towards his desk, "we're just friends, yes. Now, how about you and I go to lunch, or would you like to meet my friends?"

"Actually, lunch would be wonderful. Do you have some time," she asked, seeming like she had been waiting for him to mention this very thing.

"I'm the head of occult, Mum, I have all the time I want," he stated, hoping to see the same spark in her eye as the day he told her he was going to be watcher to not one but two slayers. There wasn't one however.

"Of course, dear, shall we go then," she asked, standing, and not waiting for his reply.

A little unnerved, Wesley grabbed his jacket all the same and made to follow her. Once in the hallway though, he was thrown into complete confusion once more when he saw her taking the hand of a boy no more than six-years-old.

"Um. . .," he began, but she cut him off, "I think it'd be best if I explained this in private, dear."

Pulling on her hand a little bit, the small boy looked up to her, "is this my dad," he asked.

Looking from his mother to the child, Wesley shook his head in confusion, "actually, I think I'd like you to explain this now, Mum."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Next chapter, the answer to this mystery and a little bit of a Wesley history lesson.


	2. Baby Watcher

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Angel or Buffy characters. They all belong to Joss Whedon.

Motioning his mother back into his office, Wesley shut the door behind she and the child, "now what was that?"

Placing the child on the couch, Helen went to her son, "alright, so I didn't come to Los Angeles just to see your new office or meet your friends. I have some other business. Some other very important business to take up with you."

Raising her eyebrows, she watched as Wesley motioned to the corner where he knew the child couldn't hear their conversation. "What is it," he asked, rather beginning to panic, "and why does he think I'm his father?"

"Because you are," she blurted out. She knew she should have been frank from the beginning. Backing up a little Wesley shook his head.

"I don't think so. I mean, you must be mistaken," he half-laughed.

Shaking her head in the negative Helen knew this must be difficult for Wesley to wrap his mind around. "Mum, no one that I've ever. . .done what it takes to make a child with has ever contacted me to tell me that they're going to be bearing my child," he said, hoping to make her see reason, "none of them. . .not that the list is extensive."

"What about Julia, Wesley," she asked, "did she ever contact you?"

Instantly flooded with memories of his first love, Wesley thought back to the days he had spent with her. They had lived together for three years after he had gotten out of the Watcher's Academy, something his parents didn't approve of at all, especially since she was an art major from the lower end of London. Those had been happy times though. Well, up until he had gotten notice that he was being sent to Sunnydale. He promised he'd be back but nothing consoled her. She told him to leave and never come back if he took the job and left her.

Unfortunately, his father had won on that particular argument and he had been sent to Sunnydale, and had later received a letter from Julia saying that she meant what she had said and that she never wanted to see him again. In fact, she proclaimed that she had moved on.

"No, never," he said, "and she would have told me if she had gotten pregnant. She would have told me right away."

Shaking her head again, Helen looked at the boy on the other side of the room, he seemed anxious, "she wouldn't if she had been scared. Think about it. Think how young you two were. She loved you though, Wesley. She loved him."

"What do you mean 'loved'," he asked, already knowing the answer.

"She died about a month ago. I went immediately and retrieved him. No grandson of mine is going to an orphanage," she stated rather loudly so that the child could hear this, then continued in a lower voice, "not when he has a father to take care of him."

Now it was Wesley's turn to shake his head, "Mum! Do I know how to take care of a child? What about my job, and the demons, and. . .if she really wanted me to have him she would have contacted me!"

"She contacted me, Wesley James Wyndam Pryce! I've known about him since he was a year old. She begged me not to tell you though. She said it would ruin your career, ruin your happiness she thought you had found in California. The fact is though that he is yours, he is your son," she snapped.

Looking at the child, Wesley noted that they had the same slight build and light brown hair. The child did look like him, except for the sea green eyes. Those were Julia's.

"Mine and Julia's," he stated, a new feeling welling up in him, one he hadn't experienced for a long time. A feeling of having something that was dependent on him, someone that loved him just because, "our son."

"Yes, dear," she nodded knowing she was getting the message about how important it was for him to take the boy.

"Does Father know," he asked, quickly considering everything.

Easing his fears, Helen shook her head, "no I didn't see fit to tell him. This is your boy. Besides, he's been away on business in Romania for the last month a half."

Nodding, Wesley knew 'business' translated to 'having an affair'. "Thank you," he mumbled, then glanced at his son, "what do I do now, Mum?"

"Well, you could start off by introducing yourself," she said, nudging him towards the child. Taking cautious steps, Wesley approached the boy with all the memories of his beloved Julia flooding back to him. Before him was the product of this love.

Stooping a few feet in front of the boy, he smiled, "hi," he said, hoping he was doing alright. The boy nodded and replied in a whisper, "hello."

Wesley detected his British, East-end accent, and smiled even wider. "My name's Wesley, and I'm your. . .your dad," he said, then continued, "what's your name?"

"My first one, or my middle one," the child asked, making his father laugh. "Both," the older man replied.

Standing the boy proudly proclaimed, "Patrick Ian Wyndam Pryce," then rather shyly, "that's your name, right?"

Reaching out to pull the little boy into a hug, Wesley felt a tear spill over, "right."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Next chapter will have some Wesley bonding with his son while trying to figure out what exactly he's supposed to do. Then, maybe he'll get a love interest. Who knows? Well, I do! Please read and review!


	3. Elevator Revelation

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Buffy or Angel characters. They all belong to Joss Whedon.

Meeting the gaze of the small boy between his mother and he, Wesley smiled and reached out his hand. However, the boy was still somewhat shy, and did not take it, rather inching closer to his grandmother. It was understandable, though somewhat frustrating. Helen had warned her son it would take time for Patrick to trust him. He had, after all, never known his father, and Wesley was a complete stranger to him. Wesley had countered that had Julia told him about his son, much less meet him, this wouldn't be a problem.

All the frustration he had felt over screwing up such a good relationship had quickly turned to frustration towards Julia. How could she just not tell him they had a son together? It was so irresponsible, but then again responsibility had never been Julia's forte. That's what he had loved about her. Her wildness, her ways of doing such crazy things that made sense in the end, her way of making small things seem so special. What had happened?

"Wake up, sleepy head," Julia whispered to her lover, putting her hands under the blankets and tickling him, "I made you breakfast."

"Mm, what is it," he asked, rolling over, trying to make her forget she was waking him up.

"You're going to have to get your arse out of bed to find out," she said, crawling out of bed again. Smiling, he noticed she had put on the shirt he had worn the day before.

Closing his eyes as he heard her leaving the room, he fell back asleep only to be awoken by her pouncing on him. "Have you forgotten that you have work today," she asked, half laughing.

"I wish I could. You should really stop keeping me up all night long," he teased, sitting up and kissing her, but she pulled away, "which reminds me, you should take a shower. I swear your dad knows when we've sha. . ."

"Do you think he does," Wesley asked, somewhat concerned, as he crawled out of bed and pulled on his shorts and glasses, making his way to the shower.

"Would you care if he did," she asked, sitting back on the bed. Turning before entering the bathroom, he leaned on the doorway, "of course not," he lied, then continued, closing the door behind him.

Sighing, he knew he had avoided disaster. They had had some pretty explosive fights about her and his parents. He knew they wouldn't get along, but try telling that to Julia. The one time they had met it was if she was trying to piss them off.

Stepping into the shower, he knew she wouldn't push about the subject of his parents, and was grateful. They hadn't had a big fight in months, and he'd like to keep it that way.

Speeding through the shower, he stepped out into the cold air, and swore he smelled bananas. She had decided to get creative in the kitchen that morning. Wondering how long she had been awake, he dressed himself and halfway made their bed, deciding he'd give her another minute or two to cool off.

When he felt confident she would be fine, he made his way into the kitchen and sat down at the breakfast table next to her. In front of him awaited a large stack of banana pancakes. Taking a bite, he smiled, knowing she was watching over her newspaper. "You like them, then," she asked, her eyes still trained on the paper.

"They're great," he said, taking another bite, "how long did it take you to make them."

Putting down the paper, and shrugging, Julia took a sip of her tea, "an hour. I didn't really sleep last night," she said, not looking at him.

Putting his fork down, Wesley looked at her seriously, "everything alright," he asked.

Smiling she nodded, "I just have a lot on my mind, you know, planning my next masterpiece."

Rubbing her arm, he wiped his mouth and stood, "I'm sure it'll be great."

Standing, Julia followed him to the door, something she didn't usually do. "So, you'll be home around five tonight," she asked, wrapping her arms around him.

"I usually am," he replied, leaning in for a kiss.

"Right," she said, kissing him, then pulling back, "I'll see you then."

Turning, she went back into the kitchen and began collecting dishes, piling them in the sink to be washed. As he watched this he couldn't help but feel something was off, but just didn't know what. Shaking the feeling, he told himself everything was normal, and pulled the door shut behind him.

Standing in the elevator, Wesley hit the number 'five'. It would have been better if he had taken his mother and Patrick back to his apartment where they could talk, but his apartment was currently still a mess from Faith and the apocalypse. He'd sent someone over to clean it later. Now, he had to figure out about what was next. How was he supposed to bond with his son? How was he supposed to make him comfortable around him? It might be a good idea to have someone go and buy him a parenting book as well.

Just then, the elevator stopped short of his destination, interrupting his thoughts, and Gunn appeared in front of him, setting off a bunch of new thoughts.

"Hey, Wes, and you must be Mrs. Wyndam Pryce," Gunn said, extending a hand, which Helen took, smiling.

"And who is this nice young man, Wesley," she asked, "and how does he know who I am," she added a little suspicious.

"This is Charles Gunn, Mum, and. . .how do you know who she is," Wesley asked his friend.

"News travels fast around here. I heard that your mom was visiting, and oh, who is this," he asked looking at Patrick, who quickly made himself disappear behind Helen, "I didn't know you had a little brother, man."

"He isn't my brother," Wesley began, pausing, and looking to his mother for help just as the doors opened again.

"He's his son," looking past Gunn, Wesley found Angel standing looking at Patrick, "he smells like him."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Uh-oh! Is that jealousy, Angel? How will Angel handle the man who stole his son having a son? Well, I hope. Also, how will Patrick handle Wesley's friends, and vice-versa? Does he know about vamps and demons? More little flashbacks from Julia and Wesley's relationship in the chapters to come. Please read and review!!!


	4. Not Your Friend

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Buffy or Angel characters. They all belong to Joss Whedon.

"Uh, yes, that would be true," Wesley said, wondering why Angel seemed so agitated at the moment, but then figured it out as Spike appeared from behind him.

"Urgh! You're right. Nibblet reeks of Percy," he said, not taking in how frightened the boy seemed to be.

"And, who is this," Wesley's mother spoke up, extending her hand.

"I'm Angel," the vampire said, taking her hand briefly.

"Angelus, I presume," she said, though not judgingly.

"In another life. Enough about me though, I never knew you had a kid, Wes," he turned on the ex-watcher.

"Well. . .I think I'd had better explain this in private," he replied, "shall we go into your office?"

Nodding Angel climbed into the elevator, and pressed the button that took them to the top floor, his office. Climbing out, Wesley turned to his mother, whispering, "do you think you could leave him with Angel's secretary for a moment?"

Shaking her head, Helen motioned to how the boy was clinging to her hand. "Is she a you-know-what, as well," she asked catching sight of Harmony.

"We're all adults here, lady. If you're going to call me a name, just say it," the vampire retorted, getting up and storming off, "sometimes this job is just too much."

"Ignore her. We're thinking about killing her," Angel said over his shoulder.

"He's just kidding," Gunn amended, looking at Patrick, but the child still remained behind the one he trusted.

Just then another member joined their party, "Mr. Wyndam Pryce."

Looking up, Wesley found Lily Machovoy coming towards them, a file in hand, "we just finished translating this one. It's quite interesting. I thought you'd like to see it right away," she said, then noticed Wesley's mother.

"Hello, again, and who is this," she asked softly looking at Patrick. Stooping, she smiled and held out her hand, "my name's Lily, and you are?"

Before he could warn her that Patrick didn't talk to strangers, the child had emerged from behind the older woman, though didn't shake hands as he said, "Patrick."

"That's a nice name. Is this your mother, too," she asked, and the little boy shook his head.

"No, she's not here. That's my dad though," he pointed to Wesley, making the older man's heart swell, "he's going to take care of me for a while."

"He is, is he," Lily asked, looking up at her boss, giving the man an idea.

Stooping to be next to Patrick, he was surprised the boy seemed so much calmer than he had a moment ago. "Um, Patrick, would you mind staying with Miss Machovoy while your grandmother and I go and talk with the other adults for a few moments," he asked.

Hesitating, the boy looked to his grandmother, and then back at Ms. Machovoy, who smiled. Her smile reminded him of his mother's smile, and so he nodded.

"Good boy, we'll be back in a moment," Wesley said, patting the child on the head and following the others into Angel's office.

Closing the doors, he turned to his friends who seemed full of questions.

"How long have you had a son, man," Gunn asked, taking a seat in one of the plush chairs.

Leaning against a wall, Wesley put his head in his hand, then looked at his mother, "if I'm right with my timing, five years, almost exactly."

"He turned last month," his mother replied.

"So, how long have you known about him," Angel asked, leaning on his desk, not looking at Wesley, or anyone in particular.

"Five hours," Wesley replied, looking out the window to where Lily was entertaining the child with Harmony's office supplies.

"Does he know about vampires and demons, Mum," he asked after a lull of silence.

Shaking her head, Helen looked through the window at the boy, "no, he's completely unaware. Untainted with the knowledge of what goes bump in the night," she said.

"He's going to have to find out," Spike said, walking through a wall into Angel's office, "I mean, if he's going to stay around here. We're the headquarters for things that go bump in the night. Not to mention, half your friends, me not included, are dead, one of them is green, and me, again not your friend, I'm a bloody ghost!"

"Good Lord, green, Wesley," his mother exclaimed.

"Yes, Lorne. He's an empath demon," Wesley replied, still transfixed by how well Lily was handling his son.

"She's a natural," he said, deciding he no longer cared about this conversation. Yes, it was true that Patrick may have to find out about demons, and he may have to get used to living with them, but he needed to get used to his father first. He needed to have a stable family life.

Stepping into the lobby, he smiled to Lily, and bent to Patrick. "What are you two doing," he asked, looking at the drawing the boy was making.

"I'm drawing a dinosaur," he replied.

"It's nice, isn't it," Lily said, catching Wesley's eye.

"It's great," he said, not breaking eye contact with her.

Clearing her throat, she came to her senses, handing him the file she had initially wanted to present him with. "I think I had better get back to work, Mr. Wyndam Pryce."

"Please, call me Wesley," he replied. Nodding, she stood bidding the boy goodbye, and then walking away, turning back and glancing at her boss and his boy.

"Dad," Patrick asked, getting his father's attention, "do you want my dinosaur picture?"

Nodding, Wesley smiled, "you and I can go and hang it in my office now."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Some more Wes/Julia next chapter. Anything anyone else wants to see in later chapters? Please review.


	5. Bye Bye Baby

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Buffy or Angel characters. They all belong to Joss Whedon.

Breathing deep, Wesley rolled over and kissed his girlfriend's cheek, "you're so amazing!"

"You're only saying that because you got some," she replied, though smiled, kissing him.

"Maybe, but it was a good some," he said, getting a small slap on the chest before she rolled over, letting him wrap his arms around her waist.

"Seriously, though, you're an amazing woman," he said, knowing they would have some serious talk before they fell asleep.

"Well, you're not so bad yourself," she whispered nuzzling his neck.

A moment of silence passed between them, in which he thought she had fallen asleep, however, a moment later she said something that frightened him a little, "if we were to have kids, what would you want to name them?"

"'Scuse me," he mumbled sleepily, "did you just say what I think you said?"

Rolling over, she seemed a bit hurt, "what? You've never ever thought about us having kids?"

"Not really," he replied, moving back a bit, "I mean, you know, we're not exactly. . .I didn't think we were at that stage yet. My parents would kill me if I got you pregnant and we weren't even married."

Knowing he had made a mistake, and opened a Pandora's box, Wesley felt like kicking himself as she began to sit up, "so, as long as your parents don't have any evidence that you're really in love with me, it's okay to be with me!"

"You know that's not what I meant," he began, "they know we sleep together, but they would never approve of me having a bastard child in ANY relationship."

"And if you had a bastard child, would you care about it," she asked, fixing him with a hard gaze.

"You're not. . . .you know, are you," he asked, staring at her, nervously.

"No," she said, kicking herself mentally. Why wasn't she telling him!? "I'm just beginning to wonder how committed you are. I mean, three years, Wesley! Three years, and you can't find it in you to not care about what your parents might think and propose to me!"

"Not this again," he said, getting out of bed, and pulling on a pair of pants, "I'm tired of this fight, Julia. We have a good thing going here. Why do we need to be married?"

"Because I feel like you're ashamed of me! I feel like we'll never be married. We'll never have kids, and in the end, we won't be happy because of them," she yelled.

"It's not just them, Julia! It's me! Maybe I'm not ready for the commitment! Maybe I'm scared of how good I'll be as a husband and father," he yelled back, then fell silent. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell."

Sitting on the bed, she looked at him in the dark. "I think you'd be a great dad, and a wonderful husband, and I love you," she said.

Shaking his head, he sat back down on the bed, "it's just not possible right now. I. . .maybe I should have told you earlier," he began, "I'm going to California for a few months for my job."

Sighing, Julia stood, "months."

Nodding, he watched as she put on her robe, and made her way into the kitchen.

Following, he couldn't help but feel that things were about to get that much worse, "they just need me for a while to train two slayers. I'll be back before you know it."

"Back before I know it," smiling she sat at the kitchen table, "and what about after that? How many more times are you going to have to go on these little missions? Be gone for months at a time?"

"Julia, I. . .," he began but she shook her head.

"He's sending you, isn't he," she said, referring to Wesley's father as 'he'. The tension level between them had been rising lately, and it didn't help that she was always telling Wesley he shouldn't listen to anything his parents were telling him if he really didn't want to do it. Why couldn't she just be smart and keep her mouth shut. Then maybe her Wesley would be staying.

"He said it would do me good to get out of London, and yes away from you, for a while, but I just want to do it so I don't lose the job," he tried to make her see the bright side. Money was always a good thing when you had to make rent.

"There are other jobs, Wes," she began but he cut her off, "you don't get how important this is! For generations we've been watchers, and not one has gotten an active slayer. It's a great opportunity, and I'm not turning it down because you're throwing a tantrum!"

"You're absolutely right. Don't let my tantrum stop you. Go, and seize the opportunity, but don't expect me to wait around," she said calmly, though slammed the bedroom door as she left him sitting in the kitchen.

Giving her grandson a long hug, Helen finally let go of him and kissed his cheek. "Be a good boy for your father, dear," she said, patting him on the head, then turned to her son.

"Are you sure you can't stay longer, Mum. I mean, it's only been two an a half weeks. We haven't even told him about. . .you-know-what," Wesley said, turning a bit so Patrick couldn't hear.

His mother smiled though, "I think you can tell him about that on your own, love. You're doing a wonderful job being a father, Wesley. I have faith in you."

"But, Mum, it's only been. . .," he began again, but his mother cut him off with one of her famous, no nonsense stares, "two an a half weeks, I know. You'll do fine though. You're his father. Now, come here."

Pulling him into a hug, she smiled, she knew he could do this. He had been wonderful with the boy the last few weeks. Though, it would be nice to stay a bit longer, Roger had called to tell her he was coming home from his business trip, and it would be no good for her to not be there. It might make him want to investigate, and the last thing Wesley needed was for his father to find out that he had a young son he hadn't promised to the reforming Council.

She knew Wesley wanted Patrick to have nothing to do with the family business. It had, after all, torn he and his love apart.

Releasing her son, she smiled again, the fake smile she used to assure everyone that everything would be okay. "Now, you two behave, and I'll be back before you know it," she said, turning her back on the two and getting in line to go through the metal detectors.

Watching his mother go, Wesley felt the pit of his stomach sink as he looked down at the boy next to him, whose bright green eyes were staring at him, as if asking, 'what now?'.

However, that's not what came out of Patrick's mouth, "when do I get to meet grandpa?"

Shaking his head, Wesley took the boy's hand and began to lead him toward the exit, "your grandfather's a busy man. You'll probably never meet him."

Hoping this was a true statement, Wesley didn't want to have to worry about what would happen if his father did actually find out about Patrick, but rather decided to focus on what the heck he was supposed to do now. Without his mother there to help him things were definitely going to get more interesting.

"Hey, Dad," he heard from beside him, and lifted the boy into his arms as they began crossing the street.

"Yes," he replied, watching the traffic to make sure they were safe to cross.

"We're gonna be okay," the boy said, looking earnestly at his father.

Looking back at him, Wesley smiled, "Of course."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Aw! Cuteness! Next chapter the beginning of an inapproprite office relationship, Pat finding out about vampires and demons, and Angel, Lorne, and Spike being put on notice.


End file.
